Wizard
by pobrediabla
Summary: A painful memory is revealed, yet it was meant to happen like that. Part II is up! HGSS. Please R&R. Made for gs100 challenge 'Model'.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No, I don't.

A/N: Read and Review! That's the only payment for our humble work…..:)

Many thanks to _GallifreyanMaiden_, who betad this story!

PART I

In the great hall of the Bruce Castle Museum, a group of young children stood with a tall woman with glasses who very eagerly talked to the children about the paintings.

She turned to them and said, "And this was, as I said before, the Beatrice Offor collection. Now let's go to the next hall."

The group went through a narrow corridor and arrived at a private, dark room wherein only the paintings were lit.

"This is the Room of Sorrow. It got its name from an old legend. As you all know, this castle belonged to Lady Coleraine. Now this lady was a very proud, snobbish woman. No one could ever get close to her, although many young men tried."

"Then one day, as she took a walk around her land, a hunter ran by her. The Lady felt immediately that he was something else, something more, than her previous suitors. She called out to him and asked him to escort her home. They walked and talked the Lady's infatuation grew and grew. The hunter didn't appear to show any deep interest in her, and she soon realized that her love was most likely unrequited. However, hard as she might try, the Lady could not get the hunter off of her mind. She asked about him in the village, where she found that strange things were whispered about him. It was said that he spoke to animals and some even claimed to have seen him riding the waves on nights lit only by a moon full of mystery and pregnant with promise of magical nights to come. But she didn't care one whit; she only considered it the usual village gossip. Her birthday came, and she hoped that - despite every sign to the contrary - her magical hunter would propose marriage to her. He did come on that day, but only to inform her politely that he would leave her land that day, and probably never to return. The Lady couldn't bear to lose her love and killed herself here in this very room," she ended in a whisper.

Many children had nightmares after hearing the story.

"But," she continued in a lighter tone of voice, "This is of course only a legend. The facts are that the lady died in her bedroom of pneumonia. Due to the legend we named this the Room of Sorrow, and this is where we collect our darker themed paintings," she said, continuing her introduction of paintings and painters.

After a while she walked over to a medium sized rectangular painting, "And this, ladies and gentlemen, one of the most interesting paintings in our collection. Its maker is unknown, as is the title, so we simply call it 'Wizard'."

In the middle of the picture a black-haired man in his early 40s sat, his face was an intense mixture of pain, regret and sorrow. His head was in his hands and he sat at a desk in a chair. His surroundings included all kind of cauldrons, jars and a bookcase full of heavy books, some of them looked very old, and even bloody.

On the desk were a wand, papers, and miscellaneous objects scattered about. The children shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably as they looked at the painting. The feeling that they were seeing something they shouldn't, some intensely private personal grief, caused many of them to shift their focus to shift around the room, to their feet, at other paintings, anywhere but at the sad man in the portrait.

The bespectacled woman continued, "The painting was made in the second half of the 20th century, though we don't know the exact date. The painting was found in the late 21th century at an attic in London. The owner of the house kindly gave it to us, but he couldn't give any information about it."

"We can see his face is very wrought. The painter must have had a great interest in wizards, since he or she painted in the picture every kind of stereotypical 'wizard equipment', like the wand, the cauldrons, the strange cloth, and even the crooked nose."

"Nevertheless, this is a very nice painting, one of my personal favourites. It just shows so much emotion, the kind that not many can draw."

The group moved, only one girl remained, admiring the magnificent sight.

"Dorothy, don't dawdle, come along," called a voice from down the hall

The girl shot a last glance to the painting and then ran after the others.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: aaaaaaand, still not mine!

A/N: Thanks to all who alerted/favourited this story, and thanks to **Allison**, **Heidi191976**, and **notwritten** for reviewing!

Again, the excellent beta was _GallifreyanMaiden._

_Keep reviewing!_ (Or start:)

PART II

Dorothy went home, her head full of the paintings, painters and other dates and stories she'd heard that day in the museum.

"How was the museum, darling?" her bushy-haired mother asked as she wiped her hands on the dishtowel next to her.

"It was fantastic! We heard loads of stories and some of them were really terrifying. Did you know that the castle's owner died there?" she said with an exuberant smile.

"Well, it's quite common for people to die in their own home, don't you think?" said her mother with an indulgent smile.

"But she actually _killed_ herself there," the girl said excitedly, "Isn't it romantic?"

Her mother sat herself down at the kitchen table and gave a good-natured roll of her eyes. Although she had her own opinions about what was romantic and what was not, she didn't want to ruin her daughter's enthusiastic narrative.

"I see. When I was at your age, we also made an excursion there. I remember there was a very nice painting, titled 'Wizard', or something like that. Is it still there? " she asked curiously.

"Oh yes, it's there. Maybe that man really was a wizard," she wondered fancifully.

"Dorothy, wizards exist only in books, you know that…Although it was said that my great-great-great-grandmother was a witch, but it was probably because of her bushy witch-like hair," said her mother with an absentminded smile as she ran a hand fondly through her own untameable mane.

***

It was the end of a very sunny and warm august day and Dorothy spent this day in their garden playing. She wanted to enjoy her last days of freedom before she had to start her study in a local high school.

Suddenly a long-cloaked man appeared near the front yard.

"Hello," he said in a friendly manner.

"Hi," she greeted him curiously.

"Can I talk to your mother?" he asked politely.

"Of course. She's inside. I'll show the way," Dorothy said and led the man into their sitting-room.

Dorothy called into the kitchen, "Mum, a man wants to talk to you."

Her mother quickly wiped her hands with a kitchen-cloth, and went in.

"Dorothy, you can go back to the garden," her mother said as she sat.

"No, no need for that," the man said, "Since it's about her, she should to stay here."

Dorothy's mother looked concerned.

The man looked at them nervously, "I don't really know how to start it, so I'll jump into the middle. You're a witch, Dorothy."

The next two hours were spent with excited 'oh'-s and bunch of questions, what the man tried his best to answer.

After two hours he stood up and gave Dorothy a letter.

"I almost forgot it. Everything else is explained in this letter."

They showed him out in a daze, still being under the impact of the wonderful things they'd heard.

***

Dorothy was a bit scared as she already was summoned to the headmaster of Hogwarts during her first week. To her knowledge she hadn't done anything bad, but she still was very nervous as she went to the headmaster's room.

She said the password and stepped inside, but the headmaster had not yet arrived. She had time to look around and look she did. In her opinion it was the best 'wizard room' she'd ever seen. On the wall, just behind the headmasters' chair, was Albus Dumbledore's portrait, which she immediately recognised from her copy of Hogwarts: A History. She picked up her courage and called to him, "Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore looked at her smiling "Hello Miss…"

"Dorothy, Sir. Dorothy Chapman," she said nervously.

"You remind me an old student of mine," he said softly with a kind smile.

"That must've been hundreds of years ago!" slipped out of her mouth before she could realize what she was saying.

"Maybe not a lot of hundreds, but certainly more than a century ago." He said with the same smile and added, "She was a very bright witch. Am I right, Severus?" he added with a twinkle in his eye.

Dorothy glanced at the portrait of a dark-haired man several places by, and gasped.

"Wizard!"

"Very ingenious remark, Miss Chapman," he replied dryly, "Had I been your teacher, I should deduct points from…" he looked questioningly at the girl.

"Gryffindor, Sir," the girl replied promptly.

"So a Gryffindor, eh?" said Dumbledore with a brighter twinkle in his eye as he looked at Severus, who muttered sarcastically, "What a delight."

Dorothy wanted to explain her odd behaviour, but at that moment the current headmaster came in and looked at her with a smile, "Ah, Miss Chapman, I see you got here easily. And you met Albus, and most importantly Severus."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you've been wondering why you're here," he said, not waiting for a reply.

"It's about your family, it's very rare, but it seems that several generations ago magic died out in your family, only to reappear in you. Therefore I'm sure you've no idea who your ancestors are, though you may have read them in Hogwarts: A History or in The Fall of The Dark Lord or The Heroes and Heroines of the 20th century…" he paused.

"Your ancestor is, my dear, Hermione Granger, who had a major part in the greatest battle of our time."

"Oh," Dorothy replied, as she really didn't know what to say.

"We are lucky in that we can give you some of her collected personal memories."

He opened a golden cage full of glassy phials behind his desk. He took out three of them and gave them to her. Then he showed her a stone bowl with runes all along the sides.

"This is a Pensieve**.** You have to pour the liquid in those phials into it and then put your head into it.

"Don't be afraid, it's harmless, really. Now I'll leave you alone…" He said and left the room. Dorothy broke open the cachets and poured the silver liquid into the bowl, then took a deep breath and went under.

_She was in a room, probably a bedroom. At the back was a big mirror, in front of which was a woman who was trying on her wedding dress. Dorothy went closer and saw that she indeed was Hermione Granger. The door suddenly opened and Severus entered. He was in bad state, with big, dark circles under his eyes, his hair unkempt and he was even paler than usual. Hermione caught sight of him in the mirror and turned to him._

"_Severus," she said blandly, without emotion._

"_Don't do this."_

"_Don't do what?" she said, turning back to the mirror and looping a pair of diamonds in her ears._

"_Hermione, I-I love you. Don't marry him," he pleaded desperately._

_Hermione paled and turned around._

"_Stop it! Stop it now; I don't want to hear it. Why do you tell me this now? Why? You had years, long years to say it, I waited, and now…" she trailed off, breathing heavily._

"_Do you think it's so easy for me?" He asked, his voice rising angrily, "To say it out loud? To you? To admit it to myself?"_

"_Go, Severus, just go. You're too late. I don't want to bring up feelings I buried in myself long ago. I won't call off the wedding," she said, turning her back to him again with an air of finality. _

_It seemed like Severus wanted to say something, but instead he turned on his heels and slammed the door._

_The scene was changing, and Dorothy was pulled into the next memory. Hermione was close behind her, holding an Invisibility Cloak in her hand. It must have been later, because a ring was on her finger and she looked more mature. They were headed down into the dungeons and they stopped before a door. Hermione put on the Cloak and entered quietly. They went through another door and stepped into a study. Dorothy knew exactly where they were: Severus was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands…_

_The scene changed again, several smudgy memories were seen and then a clearer one came. Dorothy was in a room where there was a big, white bed in the corner. A very old Hermione lay in it, she was hardly breathing. She seemed to mutter something. Dorothy moved tentatively closer and she took Hermiones' hand._

"_Severus…Severus." – Hermione groaned as her eyes shut._

_Family members rushed into the room, but the scene rapidly darkened._

She felt her body was pulled back, back into the reality, to the present. The first thing she saw were two black eyes, staring intently at her.

"You shouldn't have seen it. No one should have… " he said quietly.

"Sir…" she started off, but not knowing how to continue.

"I don't want another word about it. I objected it from the beginning."

"Professor, I, although you think I'm too young, understand – your feelings and I feel sor-" but he interrupted her.

"Don't you dare pity me, you foolish girl!" he spat at her.

"Severus." Dumbledore said in a warning tone.

"Professor, she really loved you. You may not know it, but in the last memory she was on her death bed. With her last breath, she called your name, " Dorothy said with a lump in her throat.

No one talked for a while, and Severus walked half out of his portrait. After the silence Dumbledore spoke first.

"My dear boy, my dear boy."

"Who was...who was the other one? The one, she married?" Dorothy asked shyly.

"Ronald Weasley," Snape spat the words out.

"Ronald Weasley? _That_ Ronald Weasley?" she asked in amazement.

"If you mean by _that_ stupid, good-for-nothing – "

"Severus," Dumbledore warned him again.

"I see. Strange the headmaster hasn't mentioned it," she mused quietly.

They were silent again.

"When did you die?" she asked Professor Snape suddenly.

"It's when did you die, _sir_," he corrected her, "And for further details about my death look for page 568 in Hogwarts: A History."

Though Dorothy first felt she ruined everything with her question, the professor didn't seem to be angry, but rather amused.

She felt it was the end of their conversation and she should go.

"Thank you, for letting me see this. Goodbye Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape."

She was headed towards the door when Severus' voice stopped her.

"In case…in case you have any problem with Potions… which I hope you won't…then…then I can help a little," he stuttered out awkwardly.

Dorothy turned around and said with a smile, "Thank you, sir."

She was sure that her years at Hogwarts would be fun.

A/N: Hit the button, hit hit that little button…


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